


All Things End

by ThayerKerbasy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Eldritch Creature Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), End of the World, Gen, Season/Series 15
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:29:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23823115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThayerKerbasy/pseuds/ThayerKerbasy
Summary: Chuck finally decided to destroy the world. Rather than give him the satisfaction of panicking, our heroes take shelter in the Bunker and ignore the world ending around them.
Comments: 34
Kudos: 46
Collections: SPN Quarantine Hits





	All Things End

Even having brought all the angels and demons back from the dead, they’d been lost for a way to defeat Chuck. All the other universes had been erased from existence, leaving their own as the final holdout. Some of the angels went back to Heaven to see what could be done from above, while others opted to enjoy Earth’s beauty in person for as long as it lasted. Nearly all of the demons left in pursuit of their own amusements. Crowley was quietly grateful when he wasn’t immediately evicted.

The few who remained in the Bunker focused on research at first, but when all avenues were exhausted, they unanimously decided it was time to embrace the inevitable by completely ignoring it. Cold beers and good Scotch in hand, they gathered in the Bunker’s kitchen — eschewing the library and the accompanying temptation to pore over books they’d already written off as useless — and shared their favourite stories about each other.

It was nice to forget their impending oblivion for awhile. No windows meant they couldn’t see the windstorms ravaging outside their walls. It also meant that no one was prepared for a knock on the door…the first time, at least.

Gadreel was the first to arrive, cautiously apologetic and uncertain of his welcome. Sam put his doubts to rest and brought him a beer. The end of the world was no time for grudges.

Not long after, there was another knock. Meg sauntered in without explanation, claiming a beer from Cas and a section of kitchen wall to lean against. She was as uncertain of her welcome as Gadreel, but where angels ask, demons take. What she took, however, was freely given.

Gabriel and Balthazar arrived together, and not empty-handed. Balthazar came bearing gifts of the alcoholic sort, arms loaded with enough liquid courage to face the impending end of the world with a grin. Gabriel introduced all three of the stray dogs he’d found on his way over. Both had brought an excellent way to make friends and they utilized them both judiciously, each earning their way into a Winchester brother’s good graces without saying a word.

Last to arrive were Adam and Michael, still peacefully cohabiting in one body. They offered for consideration a demon named Bela, who they claimed to have found skulking outside the Bunker. It was fortunate they did, else she might have never convinced herself to ask admittance, and everyone needed the comfort of company in such a time. While Adam and Michael went to talk to Gabriel, Crowley poured Bela a drink, and Dean offered her his seat. They knew what she’d gone through to get there.

Where the room had once been full of fear and uncertainty, the laughter had chased it away. They shared stories of times past, the good and the bad, putting the most amusing spin on it all for the benefit of their audience. Between them, they had many stories to tell. Wet dogs were toweled dry and soon found more than enough hands to pet them. What had been meant as the headquarters for the Men of Letters to fight anyone different had become a refuge for those in need of light and love.

BOOM!

The metal door crashed open with a screeching slam, not even the courtesy of a knock to announce the arrival of another uninvited guest. Several of the revelers abandoned their drinks to investigate, but were frozen in their tracks. All were rendered helpless.

Footsteps descended the stairs and crossed the Bunker’s floor. The creator of their universe had been denied the audience he craved, so he came in person to demand it like a petulant toddler with the power to make his tantrums felt. He demanded his creations watch as he sent storm after storm to slowly unmake their world.

All were unanimous in their grumblings of dissent, but no one had a plan to deal with the godly intruder. All they had were bravado and free will. Those combined, however, were inspiring.

The angry deity made threats against the beings he had created, promising to obliterate some of them while the others watched. Having no means of retaliation aside from resistance, the group stood firm. They were all to be destroyed regardless, they said, so why should they cave to his demands?

They were at an impasse, god on one side and creations on the other, neither showing any sign of backing down. Nothing good could come of it, but they were past the point of negotiation. All that remained was the dying.

There was one who watched, however, unnoticed. A being as old as creation, who had long ago lost track of its place in the universe in favour of watching the small creatures who remained unaware of its presence. It gave the being great joy to observe the Winchesters and the ones they called family, occasionally offering unasked-for aid. Nestled in the earth, half asleep, it hid from those who would complicate its existence with their meaningless conflicts, preferring a life of quiet contemplation.

Now, the being who had affectionately been dubbed The Bunker faced an intruder beyond the abilities of its cherished bipeds. The previous visits from the so-called god had been, if not exactly amicable, at least non-hostile. It knew its small creatures had faced off against the one called Chuck before, but they had always done so elsewhere. But now…now the danger had followed them home.

It waited while the god took one step closer, then another, still talking as if his favourite sound was his own voice. Waiting wasn’t usually difficult — what was time to one who remembered a time without it — but seeing the threat step closer to its charges made its walls tremble in a way the mortals likely attributed to the storm outside.

One more step and Chuck stood on the threshold separating what the Winchesters called the “map room” from the hallway where so many people stood immobilized. The god debated aloud which of their deaths would bring the most pain to the most people.

The Bunker didn’t wait for him to decide. A twist of its form detached the hallway from the room, relocating and opening one of its many mouths to swallow the unwelcome deity whole. Humans would say it happened in the blink of an eye if they had been able to see it happen, but they already told themselves comforting lies. They seemed to agree, it must have been Amara who dealt with her rogue sibling.

Deep inside its unknowable form, it could feel the twitching that was Chuck scrabbling to escape. The Bunker resigned itself to years of uncomfortable digestion. The payoff in absorbed power, however, would be more than adequate compensation in the end. The power of creation would come in handy when its inhabitants inevitably forgot to buy laundry detergent.

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't my usual style, but I was given the prompt "It really ate him". As soon as I saw that, I knew what I wanted to do, and it demanded something different.


End file.
